


Astronauts

by Lovely_Reira



Category: K (Anime), K Project
Genre: M/M, Saruhiko and Misaki need to talk about their problems, They should do that, because communication doesn't make for an interesting plot, but they don't, post rok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-19 10:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14235624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_Reira/pseuds/Lovely_Reira
Summary: With the slates gone and Misaki and Saruhiko together, everything should be perfect, right?They should be happy.So why weren't they?- This is inspired by a vocaloid song of the same name. I heard it and my horrible awful brain went "SARUMI!"-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still new to writing these characters so please be gentle with me ;-;

The silence between them wasn't the comforting one that it had once been.

No.

This was nothing like that easy silence as they leaned close to one another and shared earbuds or stared up at the night sky in search for a blimp that could take them away to a place much better than this.

Instead, it felt like every muscle in his body was rigid, unable to relax no matter how hard he tried. Each move he made felt awkward and forced as he picked at the curry in front of him, pushing it around more so than actually eating it. He had no appetite. How could he when they were still fighting like this? In a way that, much like the silence, was unpleasantly different than before.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor a few feet from him pulled his gaze upwards to the man that stood on the other side of the table.

Were he a more poetic person, he might have appreciated how much their positions represented their situations. So close to one another, close enough to stretch out his arm and touch him if he chose, yet there was something between them, keeping them from getting any closer.

Their eyes met, Misaki letting out a small sigh. "Next time don't bother. Just pick up something you want to eat so you don't waste food," he told him, putting his empty plate in the sink before walking away.

He cursed silently at himself. Even if he had no appetite, he should have forced himself to eat the food that Misaki had prepared. That way there would be a small chance that he would be able to see him smile, even just a little. That way, for just a single night, they might have been able to avoid fighting.

Standing up, Saruhiko cleared his plate before washing it and the rest of the dishes in the sink. Even if they weren't exactly on speaking terms, it didn't change that whoever didn't cook, cleaned. Which meant that on most nights, Saruhiko ended up taking care of the dishes.

As Misaki asked, tomorrow night he would stop on the way home to grab something to eat so that he wouldn't have to worry about him.

How long had it been like this?

At the beginning, they had been happy. He knew that they had been. Misaki had started to slowly begin seeing him again. At some moments, Saruhiko would have even thought that he could understand him. They had begun rebuilding their friendship, slowly hanging out more and more. Then it slipped out. Those words. An angry outburst that set Saruhiko's heart racing. He hadn't been able to say them back, but when he pushed Misaki against the wall and kissed him with everything he had, he had hoped he knew it.

Their little world seemed to be patching itself up. Shard by shard and brick by brick, it was building into a place where the two of them could be happy, only needing each other.

Then...it all shattered.

Like the sharp crack of a whip, Saruhiko was reminded that their world wasn't just for them. Those hazel eyes that should have only looked at him still shone brightly for them. For _him_.

Misaki still sang praises of that man, speaking of that lazy king of a bunch of punks as if he were some kind of righteous hero of justice.

He would come home wearing freshbruises and cuts from defending the name of that man and his clan.

Even if he was dead and gone, he was still stealing Misaki's gaze away from him. Coveting his adoration when he didn't deserve it. Probably laughing at his pathetic attempts to keep Misaki from forgetting about him once again. There was no competition between them, after all-

how could Saruhiko ever live up to the idealization of a dead man?

It pissed him off. Even now, he was losing a battle where his opponent had never bothered to lift a finger in offense or defense.

He was fighting in a war where he was the only soldier on the battlefield. So he dragged Misaki into it. If he couldn't fight Mikoto Suoh properly for Misaki's attention then he would fight to destroy the throne that he had been placed on. Even if it made Misaki hate him, he would show him who that man really was. He would prove to him that he was nothing to be admired.

He would show him that the phony family that that man had built was just as admirable as he was. That they could only play at being a family so long. It would be okay though, because Misaki would still have him when the reality set in. No matter what, Saruhiko would still be there when the rest inevitably left. Whether it was as a friend, a lover, or an enemy, he'd be there.

As long as Misaki only looked at him, he would be happy, right?

Then how come when their eyes met, it made his heart ache?

He wondered what would happen if he was a stronger person. Strong enough to fight against these feelings of his, to be content with merely having Misaki look at him sometimes. If that were to happen, would he be able to make Misaki happy?

He scratched at the mark on his chest, a habit he never was able to break. "Even now, can't you let me have him?" He murmured, looking up at the sky.

There was no response. No cold wind or soft whisper to make him feel as if he wasn't a crazy person by begging to a dead man for his boyfriend. Just the sound of still running hot water. Shutting off the tap, he walked to the room he shared with Misaki.

The room was dark, a small figure curled up underneath the blankets, eyes shut too tightly to be asleep. It was nearly enough to make him sigh. With how many times they had been through this already, one would have assumed that perhaps Misaki would have gotten better at pretending.

Still, Saruhiko didn't say a word as he changed clothes and climbed into the bed. He remained silent all whilst he kept to his side of the bed and desperately tried to find sleep.

-

As usual, he awoke before Misaki the next morning. Quietly, he got dressed and did his hair. Even when he had finished his morning routine, Misaki was still asleep.

Really asleep this time.

He paused to look at the sleeping figure, watching his even breaths and the peaceful look on his face that seemed almost foreign to him now. Saruhiko couldn't remember the last time he had seen Misaki look so at ease around him whilst awake.

Saruhiko sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out slowly to brush aside a strand of hair. He paused with his fingertips mere centimeters from him. Sighing, he stood and left. Leaving Misaki to be awoken by the sound of the door closing.

-

He had often begun to wonder what life would be like if they had never met in middle school.

What would his world look like without Misaki Yata in it?

It sounded like a cold and empty place to him now. Though, if he had never met him then he supposed he wouldn't have known any different. Perhaps he would have ended up in the same place; at Scepter 4, muddling through his own paperwork and fixing the mistakes of his subordinates reports.

Or maybe he would spend all of his days locked away in a room by himself. Slowly rotting away as he took even less care of himself than he currently did.

And Misaki without having met him?

Well, it probably would be much easier. He would be able to cook food that he wanted to eat without caring about whether or not some picky guy would eat it too. He could rest easy and wouldn't have to pretend to be asleep just to avoid talking to someone.

Even without Saruhiko, Misaki surely would have ended up in that place. He would have found people in his life that made it worthwhile and could have avoided the pain of being betrayed.

Without him, Misaki's life would be better.

The fact that Saruhiko needed Misaki far more than Misaki needed him was nothing new to him, though.

These all too familiar thoughts were interrupted by the information that some ex-members of JUNGLE were causing trouble. A small sigh of annoyance slipped past his scowling lips as he stood up.

Even without the powers granted my the slate, they were still annoying pests.

Neither Hidaka or Fuse questioned Saruhiko's especially grim mood. It was likely that they had grown accustomed to it by now. That and the risk of facing the wrath of Scepter 4's third-in-command was far more daunting than their curiosity was peaked. So the two made sure that they didn't say anything that would earn them a glare, or worse.

"Collect statements from the witnesses. Once you have finished, check the area for any signs of the JUNGLE members." The two complied quickly as they arrived on the scene.

Saruhiko himself had no patience to talk to witnesses. So he would jump straight to the second task.

Like a bloodhound, he quickly zeroed in on a knocked over trash can in an alley. He let out a bored sigh and walked over towards it. If these pests were going to exist, the least they could do was make things entertaining for him.

Not bothering to alert the others, he slipped into the alleyway, stepping over the knocked over trashcan, carefully avoiding the spilled rubbish with a disgusted grimace.

Perhaps if he caught whoever had caused the disturbance he would be able to tell Misaki about it. After all the trouble the group had caused for his precious HOMRA, he was sure that it would make him happy to hear that the remaining cockroaches were being taken care of. He could practically see the grin on his face now.

'I'll pick up some cokes when I stop at the store on the way home as well, as a peace offering.'

As long as the paperwork for this assignment didn't take too long, he would be able to make it back around dinner time. He closed his eyes for a moment as he walked down the straight path, only opening them again when his foot knocked against something. He crouched down, picking up the hat that he had kicked.

It must have been dropped when they were running away. He wondered if the culprit would attempt to come back for it. Placing it back down, he decided to leave it, just in case they truly were idiotic enough to return for the sake of a silly hat.

Somehow, something felt off.

Something that Saruhiko couldn't quite place in that moment. Before he could start to piece things together, the sound of his PDA going off diverted his attention.  
He slipped it from his pocket, reading the message that had popped up from Misaki.

'Won't be home for dinner. Don't wait up.'

Saruhiko clicked his tongue in annoyance as he looked down at the screen. He knew where Misaki was going to be instead of their home. HOMRA.

Scratching harshly at that damned mark that the two shared, he had to resist the urge to respond with a taunting remark to his text. He was caught in a game of mental tug-of-war, half of him wanting to tell him to come home as soon as possible so that he could see him before he slept and the other half wanting to remark about how he might actually be able to relax with how quiet the house would be without him.

He did neither.

Looks like he wouldn't have to worry about rushing paperwork later after all. Perhaps, he would even just stay the night there. Munakata had left his dorm as it was so that he would be able to stay there for assignments where all-nighters were necessary. Would Misaki worry if he woke up to find that Saruhiko hadn't come home at all? Or would he be relieved?  
He could lie and tell Misaki that he would be caught up with paperwork and to lock up whenever he got home without worrying about him.

Would he realize it was a lie? Would he care?

Either way, he wanted to hear him scolding him for pushing himself too hard like he used to. He wanted Misaki to scold him so he could roll his eyes at him and tease him about worrying. Then Misaki would blush in that cute way he did and shout at him, his eyes ablaze with passion.

The sound of shoes scraping against the concrete pulled his attention upwards, a young man who likely wasn't much older than him coming into view.

The glint of metal barely had time to register before a loud noise cut through the relative quiet.  
He slowly looked down at his stomach, at the blooming dark patch forming in his uniform. He'd have to get a new one. With the stain and hole, it would be too much of a hassle to keep this one. It would be a lot easier to simply request a new one.

Oh right.

The culprit.

Saruhiko should stop him. He took a shaky step forward, slipping a knife into his left hand. Too slow. As he prepared to throw it, there were two more loud bangs, one bullet hit his wrist and sent the knife clattering to the ground. The second lodged itself in his shoulder.

The man tried to pull the trigger again, but a clicking sound informed them both that there were no more bullets left to shoot. Not that he needed anymore. Saruhiko found himself crumpling to the ground as the initial shock wore off and the pain set in.  
Metal hit the concrete, a single word catching Saruhiko's attention as he pressed his left arm to his chest.

"Traitor."

It was enough to nearly make him laugh. How many times had he been called a traitor now? More than he could count. Before he could consider responding, the man was gone, leaving Saruhiko to watch as his blood flowed from his body, coating him in an awful red.

His brain began working quickly, logic and rational thinking fighting for their place at the forefront of his mind past the screaming of agony from the metal lodged in his flesh. Well, excluding his wrist. The bullet had gone straight through there. He could look straight through the hole if he wanted. He pulled his collar out of the way to look at the wound on his shoulder. It had missed that mark. It was almost a shame that it hadn't completely destroyed it.

'Move. I should move.' He thought, though he couldn't get enough strength to his legs in that moment to get up. He barely had enough to push himself to the side of the alley so that he could lean his back against the hard brick wall.

Surely Domyoji and Hidaka had heard the gunshots, right? They would be on their way so he just had to wait there for a little bit and try to not bleed out. Sounded easy, but there was no way he could stop all the blood.

Sticky and warm.

An odd thought passed through his mind as he sat there. Was this how Tatara Totsuka felt as he laid dying on that rooftop? Soaking in his blood and hoping that someone would arrive in time? Had the blood kept him warm on that cold December night?

He stared down at the ground beside him, stained with that color. That red. How could Misaki love such a horrible color so much?

_Misaki._

He wanted to see Misaki. Even if it meant having to go to that bar and deal with those annoying punks. Even if he was likely still mad at him. He wanted to see him.

What would he say?

Maybe he would tell him that they were through. Let him go and be happy without him holding him back. On days where his selfishness was less prominent than his self loathing, he thought about it often. About leaving Misaki for his sake. He should have. He meant to. Somehow, he could never get the words out.

It was blurry at the edges of his vision, dark spots beginning to float before him.

He didn't have long left, did he?

He was going to die in this disgusting alleyway with Misaki still refusing to look at him. Could there be a more awful death for him?

His eyes landed on his PDA. It was laying on the ground, soaked in blood- his blood- close enough to he could reach it if he stretched just a little. It hurt, but he did it.  
With his good hand, he scrolled through his contacts, clicking on the one with Misaki's name and hitting the call button.

Pick up, Misaki. Even if you're mad at me. Please pick up.

No luck. The only voice he heard was that of the automated one telling him to leave a voicemail.

"Dammit, Misaki. Couldn't you have at least personalized your answering machine?" He drawled, grimacing at how pained and weak he sounded to his own ears. "I guess this is better though. Like this, you can't interrupt me. I don't think I've got a lot of time so I should probably be honest with you. I should say the things I've never been able to say."

Even now, this was embarrassing.

"I hate Mikoto Suoh. I hate HOMRA. I hate them all because...when they came into our lives, you stopped looking at me. I wanted to be the only one you looked at that way, but suddenly it was as if you could only see him. It drove me crazy to see you looking at him, talking about him like he was some god. So I decided, if you wouldn't look at only me with adoration, that I'd be the only one you'd look at with hatred. That I'd at least have that part to myself. I'm selfish, aren't I? If I can't have you all to myself, I'd rather just destroy everything we had," he let out a bitter laugh, "I thought that I could be happy if I was the one you came home to at the end of the day, but it wasn't enough. I'm always comparing you to a child, but...it seems as if I'm the childish one... I've been thinking that if was a braver person, I would have let you go completely. Then you'd be able to smile without a care like an idiot."

He sighed, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. His voice softened slightly, speaking in that tone he reserved for Misaki. Only for Misaki. "I can see it now if I close my eyes. Your smile...while you looked up at me with those big shining eyes...Could you...could you forgive me some day, for being so selfish? For not being able to bring myself to live without you completely? And forgive me for leaving so suddenly without being able to make anything right..."

His voice was shaking. Was it from his weakening body or from emotions? He wasn't really sure. Probably was a mixture of both.

Breathing in, he prepared himself to say something he didn't think he had ever properly told him. At least, not when he wasn't sleeping. "Hey, Misaki...you know that I-"

The PDA made a noise to tell him that he had run out of time.

"-love you, right?"

He set the PDA down. Well, he had almost said everything he had wanted to. So, even if he wouldn't be able to see Misaki's face before him or hear his voice in his final moments, it would be alright? Right?

Saruhiko really hoped so.

Well, he couldn't change anything now so, if had to be.

As loud heavy footfalls approached him, he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes again. It was too much work. They were just too heavy. He could hear his PDA starting to go off as well as the fussing of voices. So noisy. Why couldn't everyone just shut up and let him rest?

'Hey, Misaki...if we're reborn into another life together, let's share headphones again like we used to...'

He hoped that those feelings would reach him, or at least that it would fall upon some benevolent god who'd decide to take pity on him.

 _If only..._  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If people want, I'll write a second part to this through Misaki's POV. 
> 
> Not sure if I want Saruhiko to live or not though....
> 
> Ah that sounds harsh...of course I WANT him to live. I just don't know which would be better for the second part. 
> 
> What do you guy think? 
> 
> Should Saru live and we get some good angst with a fluffy, hopeful ending? 
> 
> Or do you want to suffer by me having Saruhiko not make it? 
> 
> Also, if you want some actual explanation that I probably won't ever properly explain in story for why things aren't good, read this next bit:
> 
> In this story, Misaki and Saruhiko don't really work things out before getting into a relationship. WHICH THEY ABSOLUTELY WOULD NEED TO BEFORE A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP WOULD BE POSSIBLE. There is an accidental confession and after that they both assume everything is hunky-dory without discussing the issues that had led to them having a falling out in the first place. Because of this, when things returned to normal after their 'honeymoon' period and Misaki started spending more time with HOMRA again, it brought up those old feelings for Saruhiko which made him more resentful and bitter and assholey. Misaki, being Misaki, just got pissed off whenever he was a douche without trying to think of why and actually communicate instead of just getting into a fight. This slowly led to the point they are at in the beginning of the fic where neither want to talk about what's going on and neither really want to break up either so they are both just kind of on eggshells with one another.


	2. Through A Crow's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here is part two where we get Misaki's perspective and the aftermath.

The door shut as Misaki's eyes opened. He laid silently, staring at that closed door with groggy eyes, listening to the sound of footsteps and the front door closing and locking.

He let out the breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding in before sitting up. There was a lonely ache in his heart. He missed waking up to Saruhiko laying beside him, hair all messy like how it used to be when they were in middle school together.

When they would lay there together, Misaki had been able to pretend for a moment that they hadn't ever had a falling out. That they had completely skipped all of the betrayal and pain and fighting and gone straight to being happy and in love. That kind of fantasy would fade as Saruhiko would get up and go to work for the blues.

Well, he supposed that they weren't the blues anymore. Not really.

Misaki wasn't upset about it anymore no matter what they were. He had come to realize that, as much as he wished it wasn't so, that Reisi Munakata had been Saruhiko's true king and that he never truly would have been happy serving underneath Mikoto. He accepted that Saruhiko's place was with Scepter 4 as much as it was by his side. Okay...maybe a little less.

That was besides the point though, which was that Misaki had forgiven him for leaving HOMRA.

What he couldn't forgive him for was his continuing biting comments towards himself and those that bore the HOMRA mark. Mikoto in particular.

It wasn't like the typical teasing and probing that he had grown to expect and even love from Saruhiko- playful banter was something they had partook in since their middle school days together, after all.

These were deep slicing comments, perfectly calculated to touch his nerves and send him into a blind rage that would have previously sparked up his aura.

Misaki didn't WANT to get mad. He just did. His blood would boil and his trembling hands would curl into fists.

It had slowly made him tired.

Having every single day be a never ending battle was exhausting and, despite the guilt, Misaki almost started looking forward to the nights where Saruhiko would stay late at work.

It was easier to be in a relationship with him when he wasn't around.

More than anything, he hated that he felt like that. He wanted to be happy with Saruhiko. He wanted to scold him for not eating his vegetables and play video games with him. To rest his head on his shoulder while Saruhiko did the work that he had brought home so that he could spend time with Misaki who would struggle to stay awake with him.

Anytime he considered broaching the topic of their relationship, he'd decide against it. The possibility of it leading to another fight was much too real and Misaki really didn't want to fight anymore.

He had done enough fighting with Saruhiko.

With a small sigh, he turned so that his back was to the door before reaching out and grabbing Saruhiko's pillow, holding it close as he buried his face in it.

"Stupid monkey. Why can't you stop being a jerk so that I can hold you for real?" He muttered.

Misaki knew that he couldn't completely blame Saruhiko. It was probably at least a little bit his fault too. He was just too proud to admit that out loud.

He slowly got up. Laying in bed wasn't going to make him feel any better, after all. So about twenty minutes later he was fed and dressed and out the door, locking it behind him before slipping the key into his pocket. Somehow, the weight of the tiny piece of metal seemed especially heavy today.

Everything about today seemed somehow off though.  
-  
"You should go visit him."

Misaki looked over at Anna, frowning slightly at her suggestion.

He hadn't intended to start talking about Saruhiko. It had been all that fatso Kamamoto's fault! He had been the one talking about how they should go on a double date. As if that would make anything any better. Saruhiko hated being around people, especially ones from HOMRA so it probably would have just caused even more tension between the two of them.

When Misaki had said as much, Anna spoke up.

"He's probably busy so I'd just get in the way," Misaki grumbled, looking down at the bar's counter.

His frustration was clear to every member of his clan. Even if they weren't paying attention, it was hard to miss the late nights and early mornings Misaki spent at the bar as well as his especially irritable temperament followed by extreme lows where he wouldn't say more than five words for hours.

Eventually looking up, his eyes fixed on the bartender who was polishing some new decoration he had gotten imported. "Mr. Kusanagi, can I help out at the bar tonight?" He asked him.

The man in question frowned a little before nodding. "Well alright. You're not spending the night on my couch again though," he told him.

"Don't worry. I'll go home."

"You should talk to Fushimi when you do. I'd hate to see you two split up again," Mr. Kusanagi said.

Misaki didn't want that to happen either. He wasn't sure what to say though. If he tried to say anything, would Saruhiko even tell him what was going on. After all this time, he had never gotten a proper reason for why he had acted how he did back then. Could he really expect that Saru would be open and honest with him now?

He sent Saruhiko a message telling him that he would be home late tonight so that he wouldn't wait up for him.

Not long after, he heard the sound of his wrist watch going off, the symbol signaling an incoming call appearing. The hell was Saru calling him for? A sense of dread filled him at the thought that maybe Saruhiko was calling him to break up with him.

Kamamoto looked over at him. "Aren't you gonna answer that, Yata?"

"If it's important then we can just talk about it later. He's probably just calling to say that he'll be in late too," Misaki responded, more trying to convince himself than the people around him.

However, his chest tightened when he realized that Saruhiko had left a voicemail. Maybe it was important. Saruhiko hated leaving voicemails. He was the type to either call once and give up or persistently call him over and over until he picked up. But leaving a voicemail? Now that wasn't like him.

"Dammit," he grumbled, slipping off the bar stool. As he walked out the door, he called over his shoulder, "I'll be right back."

Misaki walked outside, clicking on the button that would play back Saruhiko's voicemail, he prepared himself for whatever he might hear.

_"Dammit, Misaki. Couldn't you have at least personalized your answering machine?"_

He immediately scowled at those words. This already wasn't off to a good start, yet it somehow reminded him of when things were normal between them.

_"I guess this is better though. Like this, you can't interrupt me. I don't think I've got a lot of time so I should probably be honest with you. I should say the things I've never been able to say."_

What did he mean by that? Why wouldn't he have a lot of time?

_"I hate Mikoto Suoh. I hate HOMRA. I hate them all because-"_

Was he seriously calling him just to tell him why he hated the people that Misaki considered his family? He clenched his jaw in annoyance, wishing in that moment that he had answered so that he could have given Saruhiko an earful.

_"...when they came into our lives, you stopped looking at me. I wanted to be the only one you looked at that way, but suddenly it was as if you could only see him."_

Him? Did he mean Mr. Mikoto? His anger gave way once more to confusion as he tried to process what Saruhiko was saying.

_"It drove me crazy to see you looking at him, talking about him like he was some god. So I decided, if you wouldn't look at only me with adoration, that I'd be the only one you'd look at with hatred. That I'd at least have that part to myself. I'm selfish, aren't I? If I can't have you all to myself, I'd rather just destroy everything we had,"_

The laugh that Saruhiko let out sounded bitter and almost sad to Misaki. He didn't know how to react to the dawning understanding that Saruhiko had been jealous. He had always assumed that he had been acting that way because he had truly stopped caring about him, which made it all the more relieving and confusing when he learned that the other returned his romantic feelings. The idea that it had all been an act both made sense and didn't at the same time.

_"I thought that I could be happy if I was the one you came home to at the end of the day, but it wasn't enough. I'm always comparing you to a child, but...it seems as if I'm the childish one... I've been thinking that if I was a braver person, I would have let you go completely. Then you'd be able to smile without a care like the idiot you are."_

You're the idiot, Saruhiko. There was no way that him leaving would have been able to make him smile.

_"I can see it now if I close my eyes. Your smile...while you looked up at me with those big shining eyes..."_

His breath caught in his throat. That was a voice he hadn't heard for a while. A voice that was always accompanied with gentle teasing or the rare genuine compliment. The same voice that he would use late at night when he thought Misaki was asleep, sleepily telling him that he loved him. Misaki had always wanted to tease him about it, but never did out of fear that he would stop.

_"Could you...could you forgive me some day, for being so selfish? For not being able to bring myself to live without you completely? And forgive me for leaving so suddenly without being able to make anything right..."_

Leaving? What did he mean leaving? Why was he leaving? Was Misaki right? Was this Saruhiko breaking up with him? The color drained from his face, a pathetic whimper slipping from his throat.

_"Hey, Misaki...you know that I-"_

Misaki was running towards their home before the voicemail cut off Saruhiko's voice and calling him back almost immediately afterwards. His heart was pounding in his ears and he wished he had thought to grab his skateboard before he had walked out earlier.

"Please Saru, please pick up. Please don't do this," he pleaded to his watch, anxiously listening to the ringing until Saruhiko's recorded voice informed him that he wasn't able to answer. That didn't stop him from calling again and again as he sprinted.

The door was locked when he got home causing a lump to form in his throat. He shakily unlocked the door, missing the keyhole a total of three times, before bursting inside. He raced immediately to the bedroom only to find that Saruhiko's stuff was all still there.

He paused.

There was no way that he was leaving without taking his things, right? So why had he left him that voicemail.

Almost more panicked, he left the apartment and began quickly making his way to Scepter 4's office. That was the only other place he could imagine him being. So, even though he hated going into that place, he swallowed his pride and went.

'I'm just going to find Saruhiko and ask him what the hell is going through his head sending me something like that. I don't have to talk to any of the others,' he thought, walking through the halls at an urgent pace.

The universe seemed to hate him though because as he turned a corner, he came face to chest with a familiar uniform on a less than ideal person. He stumbled back slightly before looking up at the blue king, well ex-king.

The look on his face wasn't one that Misaki knew how to describe. He was surprised and almost seemed sympathetic.

"Ah, Mr. Yata. I was coincidentally just coming to find you, but it seems you must've been informed already," the king mused.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Has Saru talked to you? Do you know something about what's going on with him?" Misaki asked him.

Munakata frowned slightly. "Apparently, you aren't as well informed as I had hoped. Fushimi is currently in Scepter 4's hospital. He has been rushed into surgery."

His legs felt weak and he was pretty sure his entire body had started trembling. He felt like he was going to be sick. Misaki didn't even have it in him to try to pull away when a hand rested on his back.

"Perhaps we should sit down somewhere before we talk any further."

Nodding slightly, he allowed himself to be led to wherever Reisi Munakata was taking him.  
-  
Saruhiko had been shot. Three times. He had been dying and instead of calling for an ambulance, he called him.

And Misaki ignored it.

He kept running it through in his head. It wasn't as if he didn't have plenty of time to think about it while Saruhiko was lying on a surgery table.

Someone must have called Mr. Kusanagi, he suspected either Munakata or Awashima, because it didn't take long for him to show up with Anna beside him. The small girl quickly broke away and sat next to Misaki, taking his hand in hers and softly telling him that it was going to be okay.

"Saruhiko is strong, we have to believe in him."

He didn't respond.

The waiting room was filled with blues, but none of them tried speak with Misaki. Misaki noticed Mr. Kusanagi speaking quietly to the blue's lieutenant, glancing over at him every so often.

He didn't know how long that they had sat there for sure, but eventually a doctor came out to speak with them. The woman directed her attention to Munakata who said that everyone here could hear whatever news the doctor had to share.

"Mr. Fushimi is currently in the ICU. We nearly lost him a couple of times, but we managed to pull him back. He hasn't woken up from surgery yet, but that's not uncommon, especially with the severity of his injuries. Right now, his condition is frail, but he can have a few visitors."

Misaki stood up and there was no attempt for anyone to argue that he shouldn't be the first person to go in and see him.

He followed the doctor with Munakata and Anna in tow, the latter holding his quivering hand. Each step made Misaki more antsy. It was taking too long. Why couldn't his room be closer?

And then...they were there.

He was standing in the doorway, staring at Saruhiko.

He barely seemed like himself like that. Hooked up to machines, face even paler than usual, his hand wrapped in bandages. It was silly, but Misaki immediately noticed how his carefully styled hair had drooped. Misaki pulled forward, his hand slipping out of Anna's, and moved immediately to his side.

Reaching out, he brushed his fingertips against his cheek, letting out a breath of relief at the feeling of his skin. He was here and he was alive.

It was as if his entire brain had tunnel visioned onto him after that. He couldn't take his eyes off of him, afraid that if he wasn't constantly checking for the even rise and fall of his chest that suddenly it would stop.

He was vaguely aware of other people coming in and out, both doctors and other visitors. None of them tried to mess with him. And then, they were alone.

"Saru..." his voice was weak. "It's not fair that you got to say all the shit that you wanted to without me having the ability to respond. You have to wake up soon so that I can tell you what an idiot you are. I need to tell you that I was always looking at you differently than I was everyone else, that you were always special to me. I need to tell you that my life wouldn't be better without you in it. I need to tell you that I love you because I can't remember that last time I told you that and that's not okay with me," his voice cracked.

Staring at him, he searched for any sign of his waking up and didn't find any. He pulled his knees up to his chest on the chair that he was sitting in, stretching out his hand to rest it on top of Saruhiko's uninjured one. He watched him for as long as possible until his breathing began to match his and his eyes slowly became heavy as his exhaustion hit him fully.

  
-

  
Everything hurt. That's all Saruhiko knew when he woke up. His head hurt, his hand hurt, his chest hurt. Everything hurt.

He slowly opened up his eyes, grateful for the dimly lit room. Everything was a little blurry. Right, glasses. He moved his hand, fumbling against a table to his right until he felt his glasses. Saruhiko put them on before looking around, everything slowly coming back to him as he took in the hospital room and his injuries.

Right. He had been shot by one of the ex-JUNGLE members.

His eyes eventually landed on the boy curled up in the chair beside his bed. Even in the low light, he could see the redness under his eyes.

Misaki.

How long had he been there?

Well, it didn't matter now. Saruhiko was just glad to see his face. He reached out again towards him, apparently too far as there was a painful tug that forced him to stop. It was no worse than the rest of his pain, but he figured that he should still not push it. He looked around until he found the button that would summon a nurse, pressing on it and waiting.

-

When Misaki woke again, barely remembering falling asleep in the first place, he was greeted with the sight of a nurse messing with Saruhiko's morphine drip.

She was speaking in a cheerful tone, making him furrow his brows. Hadn't she realized that he had been sleeping.

"Thank you."

A hoarse voice made his head snap towards its' source. Saruhiko was sitting up more than he had been before, his eyes open and his glasses in place as he watched the nurse's actions.

He opened his mouth, struggling to speak for a few moments. "Saru..." he finally managed after gaping like an idiot for much too long.

Saruhiko looked over at him, his movements a bit sluggish. It was hard to see him so weak, but it was much better than seeing him unconscious.

"Saru, you jerk. Were you really just going to leave me like that? Just up and die on me!"

The nurse immediately spoke up. "Sir, the patient is still in delicate condition. If you can't-" she started, but was cut off.

"It's fine. I'm used to his loud mouth," Saruhiko interrupted, not looking away from Misaki. "Is it possible for us to speak in private?"

She hesitated for a couple seconds before nodding, leaving the two to their business.

"You can keep going."

Misaki fully intended to. "Do you know how scared I was? I never would have forgiven you if you died on me...I never would have forgiven myself...I was so scared, Saru. I thought I was going to lose you. I thought you were going to die thinking that I hated you." The words practically came tumbling out, words he had been holding in his heart from the moment he had found out until now.

He watched for Saruhiko's reaction. Why did he always have to be so hard to read? Even now, he wasn't sure what was going on in his head.

Saruhiko looked away from him. "I was scared too," he told him softly.

That hadn't been what he was expecting to hear. It left him without any response.

"You got my voicemail, right?"

"Yeah. I thought you were breaking up with me when I first heard it," Misaki admitted.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes and letting them land on him. "Idiot. I told you that I'm too selfish for that. Even if it's better for you, I wouldn't be able to leave you alone completely."

"Stop saying stuff like that. Why the hell do you think my life would be better without you?" Misaki asked, his eyes narrowing.

"All we do is fight or avoid each other. You're clearly miserable with me. Even a blind person would be able to see that," he said with a sigh.

Misaki was quiet when he responded, "okay, then let's not fight. Let's actually talk. I'm done tiptoeing around it so once you're better let's actually sit down and talk it out."

Saruhiko was a little surprised that his spitfire boyfriend who solved problems by yelling and punching was actually suggesting that they sit down and have a civilized conversation. He couldn't help but smile a little. He nodded.

It was silent between them for a couple of minutes. Neither was really sure what to say next. The silence wasn't uncomfortable though, just a bit uncertain,

Unsurprisingly, it was Misaki who broke it. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Me too...Hey, Misakii~," he drew out his name in that way that had him prepared to be made fun of.

"Yes?" He asked him.

"I love you."

Misaki stared at him in surprise for a moment. "I love you too, Saruhiko."

He watched as Saruhiko leaned towards him, feeling his heart race in anticipation. Confusion filled him when he suddenly stopped. Before he could ask, Saruhiko cleared his throat.

"I can't move any more than this," Saruhiko told him, his tone almost sheepish.

Misaki's lips slowly twitched up into a grin. He had nearly forgotten that his boyfriend was attached to enough machines to almost count as a cyborg. He always felt bad as he started laughing, not used to seeing Saruhiko unable to do much of anything besides express his emotions and eat his vegetables.

"God that's pathetic," he said, standing and closing the distance so that Saru wouldn't have to pull against everything hooked up to him.

He leaned down, gently kissing Saruhiko. Figuring they should probably keep it short for an abundance of reasons, Misaki went to pull away only to feel a hand gripping at the collar of his shirt, pulling him back into a second, longer kiss.

When he finally let him pull away, Misaki was a bit breathless. "Damn I missed that."

Saruhiko let out a huff of laughter. "Only a virgin would get so excited over a kiss," he said, shaking his head slightly in barely concealed amusement.

"Oh shut up! You were the one that initiated it so you must have missed it too!" He exclaimed, feeling a familiar heat on his cheeks. "And I'm not a virgin!"

"Thank you for sharing that with us, Mr. Yata."

Misaki looked over at the door, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled his own hair in embarrassment when he saw Munakata standing with Saruhiko's doctor.

He glared at the boy beside him when he heard Saruhiko snickering.

"If you two are done discussing his debatable virginity, would you mind if I did a quick examination of your stitches, Mr. Fushimi?" The doctor asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"We're done."

Misaki sat back down in his chair, pouting slightly as he watched the doctor began to examine Saruhiko. Checking the incisions and having him try to move his hand in various ways.

He knew that this wasn't going to be easy by any means. Saruhiko had a decent road of recovery ahead of him so that he would be able to regain total motor functions of his hand, or so the doctor said.

Then they had to recover their relationship. Something he would have doubted to be possible before. Now, though, there was at least a chance.  
He wasn't deluded enough to think that it would be easy. They were still the same people they were before. While almost losing him had changed things, pushing them both to be a bit more honest going forward, Misaki was smart enough to know that everything wouldn't be magically fixed.

It was going to be rough.

Misaki knew that...but Saruhiko had said that he loved him and Misaki loved him too. Through all the hurt and anger, that hadn't changed. So, even if the pieces cut them as they tried to put everything back together and even if it never turned out quite perfect, he was going to try.

Taking Saru's good hand while the doctor discussed his recovery, Misaki gave it a small squeeze so that the other knew that he was here for him. Saruhiko didn't look over at him, but he returned the light squeeze. 

As long as Saruhiko loved him back, he would try.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A hopeful ending. 
> 
> These two have a lot that they have to work through, along with the addition of Saruhiko being injured. They're gonna do their best though because love conquers all, right? 
> 
> I'm not gonna write a fic about Saru's recovery or them fixing things, but if anyone else wants to I'll absolutely read it!


End file.
